A ghost of histories past. (Filler of Hannah to catch up)
Jul 29, 2016 13:00:02 GMT -5
Charles Murphy likes this
Post by Hannah Madison Emritz on Jul 29, 2016 13:00:02 GMT -5
When the horde surrounded her in the bayou and she was the last one fighting for her life among the undead, Hannah fought her way through. Hacking, slashing, stabbing, smashing and shooting, she slowly made her way through making her own path. But the ones she dropped, more seemed to have taken their place. From walking to now running, she had to make her way out fast or she was going to die. Susan screamed for her from behind Hannah, 'So I'm heading away from her. If one of us is going to live...it will be her. I'll drive them away.' Hannah thought to herself as she continued her relentless and suicidal charge. While running, a broken branch cut Hannah's leg forcing her to scream out in pain, making the horde that much more hungry for her flesh. Eventually, her handguns ran out of ammo and she was saving the remaining shotgun shells. With sword and knife in her hands, it was a simple matter of just killing at this point. After what felt like hours of a running limp and killing as much as she could, she broke free from the horde only to hear Susan screaming out in rage to be let go. "Nothing can be done now. We will meet again my love." From running in a straight line, she came across a small town that had two motels and a hotel in the center of it.
Going from alley to alley and building to building, she finally got her rear end into the hotel in the middle. It was a four story building. Hannah closed the door behind her and locked it. The place was a mess. Somebody or a group of people had ran sacked it a long time ago. Limping around the counter, Hannah began to look for a first aid kit which she did find. It was stashed underneath the cash register. Grabbing it and a key for a room on the upper level, the key said '45'. Going to the stairs, she just looked at it and whimpered to herself. "Oh damn it...why can't it ever be easy for me?" Taking it easy and taking a few breaks, she finally reached the fourth floor which had the forties on it. Limping down the hall, she found the room and went inside. The room still had a bed, sheets, and a blanket. But on the twin size bed was a small luge bag. Unzipping it, she found some clothing and a couple of MRE's. Looking in through the bag, she found a desert digital camouflage shirt that had a name tag on the chest saying, "Crowley." Speaking out loud, "A soldier. Sad to see things have been so hard with everyone. Even a soldier can't be safe in this day and age with all these undead fuckers. Crowley and whatever your first name was...I"m sorry that you had it rough soldier. But where is he?" Looking around slowly, she saw that the bathroom door was slightly open. Going to it, she pulled out her shotgun and gently pushed it open to only find a body in the bath tub. Body structure was male, muscular built and was wearing cargo pants with the same camouflage. Half his head was slumped over to the side where a handgun had blown through it. On his lap was a 9mm handgun and an assault rifle by his side. In his left hand was a small leather book. Picking it up and sitting on the toilet, she read the last page written in.
" Today, I was ambushed by a few guys who had a grudge on me since I helped that lady and her group at the hotel a couple towns away. I'm bleeding badly. It would seem my luck has ran out. I don't have anything to take care of these wounds. And the things I do have is back at the hunting cabin. Why did I have to stick my neck out for people anymore? The only thing it got me was my death sentence. If anyone reads this, head towards the swamp. You will find my cabin. Whatever is left is yours. I will not turn into one of those things. Good bye cruel world, you were a bitch til the end. Lieutenant Victor Crowley, United States Army 3rd Calvary."
Hannah frowned when she looked at the dead soldier again. Fate was cruel to this man. But she had to move on with her life. Grabbing the pistol and rifle, she left the bathroom and back into the sleeping area. Sitting on the bed, she cleaned her wound with the med kit and wrapped it up. Checking the guns and the baggage even more, she had found a half spent scar clip, empty clips for both the handgun and the rifle, a spare clip of the handgun and the rifle. "Well, I'm better off now with more toys to play with."
For the next few weeks, Hannah has been resting and searching the area for food, ammo and anything about Susan. Unaware that Susan has disappeared. Eventually she had found herself a long nose ruby red Petterbelt with a sleeper. Hannah and her big rigs. Now, she is on the move looking for Charles, the last person who was with Susan from what she remembered. With gear packed up, weapons loaded, food and water set, she sets forth once again for Charles Murphy, the Jail bird brother of Susan, her lover. Hannah also wants her Harley back. What horrors has come of it? Who's blood will she spill?
Going from alley to alley and building to building, she finally got her rear end into the hotel in the middle. It was a four story building. Hannah closed the door behind her and locked it. The place was a mess. Somebody or a group of people had ran sacked it a long time ago. Limping around the counter, Hannah began to look for a first aid kit which she did find. It was stashed underneath the cash register. Grabbing it and a key for a room on the upper level, the key said '45'. Going to the stairs, she just looked at it and whimpered to herself. "Oh damn it...why can't it ever be easy for me?" Taking it easy and taking a few breaks, she finally reached the fourth floor which had the forties on it. Limping down the hall, she found the room and went inside. The room still had a bed, sheets, and a blanket. But on the twin size bed was a small luge bag. Unzipping it, she found some clothing and a couple of MRE's. Looking in through the bag, she found a desert digital camouflage shirt that had a name tag on the chest saying, "Crowley." Speaking out loud, "A soldier. Sad to see things have been so hard with everyone. Even a soldier can't be safe in this day and age with all these undead fuckers. Crowley and whatever your first name was...I"m sorry that you had it rough soldier. But where is he?" Looking around slowly, she saw that the bathroom door was slightly open. Going to it, she pulled out her shotgun and gently pushed it open to only find a body in the bath tub. Body structure was male, muscular built and was wearing cargo pants with the same camouflage. Half his head was slumped over to the side where a handgun had blown through it. On his lap was a 9mm handgun and an assault rifle by his side. In his left hand was a small leather book. Picking it up and sitting on the toilet, she read the last page written in.
" Today, I was ambushed by a few guys who had a grudge on me since I helped that lady and her group at the hotel a couple towns away. I'm bleeding badly. It would seem my luck has ran out. I don't have anything to take care of these wounds. And the things I do have is back at the hunting cabin. Why did I have to stick my neck out for people anymore? The only thing it got me was my death sentence. If anyone reads this, head towards the swamp. You will find my cabin. Whatever is left is yours. I will not turn into one of those things. Good bye cruel world, you were a bitch til the end. Lieutenant Victor Crowley, United States Army 3rd Calvary."
Hannah frowned when she looked at the dead soldier again. Fate was cruel to this man. But she had to move on with her life. Grabbing the pistol and rifle, she left the bathroom and back into the sleeping area. Sitting on the bed, she cleaned her wound with the med kit and wrapped it up. Checking the guns and the baggage even more, she had found a half spent scar clip, empty clips for both the handgun and the rifle, a spare clip of the handgun and the rifle. "Well, I'm better off now with more toys to play with."
For the next few weeks, Hannah has been resting and searching the area for food, ammo and anything about Susan. Unaware that Susan has disappeared. Eventually she had found herself a long nose ruby red Petterbelt with a sleeper. Hannah and her big rigs. Now, she is on the move looking for Charles, the last person who was with Susan from what she remembered. With gear packed up, weapons loaded, food and water set, she sets forth once again for Charles Murphy, the Jail bird brother of Susan, her lover. Hannah also wants her Harley back. What horrors has come of it? Who's blood will she spill?